


Lay Down the Beat

by nazaleas



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: DrummerWolf, F/M, First Kiss, Post Season 2, amanda's been doing some thinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:48:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23881051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nazaleas/pseuds/nazaleas
Summary: "Whatever you want, you get.”
Relationships: Amanda Brotzman/Martin
Comments: 12
Kudos: 83





	Lay Down the Beat

The bikers had made several mistakes. The first was assuming the six oddballs in various shades of gray were an easy target simply because they had them outnumbered. The second was failing to grasp the full scope of their error when Gripps smashed through the front wheel of their leader's motorcycle with his sledgehammer. From that point, the situation degraded rapidly for them, and they had fled, leaving behind three of their bikes and about ninety-eight percent of their dignity.

Now it was evening, and the Rowdy Three had built a fire, opened up the van, and were amusing themselves with the debris of victory. Vogel and the Rainbow Beast were rolling bike tires down the hill, giggling madly, and Cross and Gripps were playing batting practice with various motorcycle parts, punctuating the gathering dusk with metallic THWACKS. Amanda sat near the fire, smiling as she watched them. She loved them so much, her wild little family, loved them with a ferocity she would have never imagined herself capable of even a year before. When she'd first started travelling with them, there had been a part of her that wondered if it was just symbiosis - she fed them, they helped her - but now, after everything, after Blackwing and Wendimoor, she knew it was more than that. It was everything. It was all encompassing.  
  
She glanced towards the van, where Martin sat on the pulled out bench seat, nursing his cigarette. She took a small pull of her beer, exhaling. Martin. The place where her easy declarations of love stuck in her throat. It was just _different_ with him, the way he nudged her as he walked by, the way the hugs lingered, the way he'd drape his arm over her shoulders. She was pretty sure she knew why, but every time the logical part of her brain tried to get her to actually admit it, the rest of her immediately found something else to think about.  
  
She just loved to watch him, even now, even at rest. There was something about the way he carried himself, all cool and loose and nonchalant, until he wasn't. He was a burning fuse, a tight coiled spring, an explosion in-potentia. Tall and lean, with that long, angular face, and those razor sharp blue eyes so cold they burned.  
  
The logic center nudged, hard.   
  
She squared her shoulders. Okay. If she couldn't think her way through this, she was just going to have to resort to other measures. And she could really only think of one way to settle this for herself that would provide an immediate answer. She stood, drawing herself up, and marched towards Martin's seat. She snatched the cigarette from his fingers, took a deep drag, and ground it out under the ball of her foot. He looked up at her silently, expectant curiosity arching his eyebrows. She set one knee on the seat cushion beside his thigh, swung her other leg up to a matching position, took his face between her hands, and pressed her lips to his.  
  
He kissed her back.  
  
And it was good. It was amazing. The part of her brain that had questioned whether or not she was _really_ attracted to him got told to shut the hell up and go sit in the corner, possibly wearing the Wendimoor dunce cap. Because this wasn't about thinking; it was about crushed lips and seeking tongues, sweet and scorching. Her skin tingled, her body trembled, her heart pounded harder than she could ever beat a bass drum. It felt _right_ , like the universe itself was heaving a sigh of relief. _Freaking finally, Brotzman. Took you long enough._  
  
But just as one source of confusion was exploded like a dump truck full of dynamite, another reared its bewildered head.  
  
He'd kissed her back - with no hesitation, no surprise, not a second's shock - he kissed her back like this wasn't the first time they'd ever kissed, but the hundredth, the thousandth, like she climbed in his lap and stuck her tongue in his mouth every day and twice on Sundays. With some effort (because her body did _not_ want to be done with this), she pulled back, breathing heavily, dropping her hands to his shoulders.  
  
“Okay, Martin," she managed, "what the hell? What IS this?” 

He looked at her blankly. “I don’t follow.”

“THIS! With you, and me, and…everything, and I just kissed you!”

“You did.”

“I just…I don’t know, I’m really confused.” She gave him a sour look. “And apparently you’re not.”

He shrugged. “You’re the drummer. You lay down the beat. I just follow your lead. Whatever you want, you get.”

She blinked at him. “You were waiting for me to make a move?" He shrugged again. "What if I hadn't?"

"I'd live."  
  
"But I did."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"And you're into it."  
  
"Hell yeah."  
  
She considered that. "You're giving me a LOT of power, you know that?” Yet another shrug. She tilted her head thoughtfully. “So what do _you_ want, Martin?” 

He met her eyes for a long moment, then leaned his cheek against hers, his voice dropped to a soft growl. “Whatever you wanna give me.”

She couldn’t help herself – his ear was _right there_ \- she nipped at his earlobe, tugging at one of his earrings with her teeth. She was rewarded by a short intake of breath, and she found herself smiling. "And what if I want to give you me?" He turned his head slightly, just enough he could look her in the eye again. 

"I'd say I like that hypothetical."  
  
"Hmm." She liked where this was going. Their lips met again, slow and unhurried, and Amanda decided that she also really, really liked the way he kissed her. Like she was precious. Like she was extraordinary. Like she was not to be taken for granted. Like...she tasted good.  
  
She dragged her mouth from his, a teasing smile hovering on her lips. "Were you... snacking?" Martin looked askance, and she tried not to laugh.  
  
"Maybe a little," he admitted. "Kinda hard not to. Should I have asked first?"  
  
"Nah, it's good," she said, pushing his glasses back up his nose. "I get it." She rested her forehead against his, completely at peace with the moment, with the entirety of her life, with everything.   
  
Well, there was one thing...  
  
"You know what would be nice?" she murmured. "If there was someplace we could be alone, and horizontal... and naked."  
  
A quick spark of 'copy that' flickered in his eyes, brighter than the firelight. He stood suddenly; she had to scramble to wrap her arms and legs tight around him to keep from meeting the ground ass first. "Boys!" Martin boomed. "We're takin' the van; we'll be back in the morning. Beast - keep 'em out of trouble."  
  
"Why?" Vogel asked, bafflement all over his face. "Where're you going?" Gripps muttered something in his ear, and the confusion gave way to horror. "EW!" The Beast cackled merrily, and Cross raised his beer in salute.  
  
"Bout time."


End file.
